


The wonderous Story of how the Usopp the Brave singlehandly saved The King of Birds

by LocalVodkaAunt



Category: One Piece
Genre: Addams Family AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Kidfic, Yassop is a shitty dad, injured animals, mentions of child abuse, mentions of grief, someone please call social services
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 20:02:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17290475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LocalVodkaAunt/pseuds/LocalVodkaAunt
Summary: This is the adventure of Usopp the Brave, who through the twists of fate goes from riding his new soapbox car to getting kidnapped by a strange boy. He fights against very polite skeletons and finally rescues a mighty sparrow. Listen closely, or you might miss it!





	The wonderous Story of how the Usopp the Brave singlehandly saved The King of Birds

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you [tazzmatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazzmatic/pseuds/tazzmatic) for betaing and fixing my bilingual word confusion! 
> 
> As always, tell me how you liked it, if you did like it all, what I should do differently or just drop me an emoticon!

The soapbox is a thing of beauty, if Usopp does say so himself. It’s made from polished oak planks he found on the street and which he grinded down himself. Their light brown color gleams faintly in the light of the afternoon sun, which smoothes over a few uneven edges. He stole the tires from the junkyard in a nightly stunt he still is proud of today. He even brought a bold clipper along. Not that he needed it in the end, because a large part of the fence rusted through and made a hole that was just big enough for him to fit through. But he was really professional about it. It took weeks to figure out how to screw everything together, how two axes would be stable enough to carry his weight and still be flexible enough for him to steer out of the way of bigger obstacles, to find a design that fit, to wait for the paint and the varnish to dry before he could assemble all of the parts.

 

Three months. It’s been three months since he started, beginning on his birthday. He remembers singing himself a congratulatory song as he drew the blueprints, in actual blue, to stay true to the word, though he discovered later that it wouldn’t have been strictly necessary.

But he hung them in the garage and it made the room a little bit livelier, now that the car is always gone.

 

The garage has become his favourite room. He has laid out an air mattress next to the makeshift workbench and sometimes slept there, because the house seems so empty now, and much to quiet. The last words of his father still seem to hover over by the front door. “I have to go again. I know you don’t understand, but she calls me. The sea calls me.” He hears them every time he’s in the living room.

 

So he stayed in the garage, between screws, oil and the comfortable smell of wood and dust. It’s still too quiet. But at least there is something else, anything.

 

Today is a fun day, though,he tells himself. It’s the day he finally finished, and he is taking her for her first test drive. She doesn’t have a name yet, but Usopp is sure he will think of something. He rolled her all the way over to the hill on the other side of the street, the only one in the area that’s high enough to gain him enough speed. He remembers, back when he still went to school, how much he hated the street and the walk uphill every afternoon.

 

There is also the matter of the creepy house. It sits on the end of the street, right where the slope evens into the ground again. It’s dark and menacing, reaching three stories high into the sky, the grey roof almost black against the sky in almost every weather. Huge trees hide most of the windows, long branches almost touching the grass on the ground. It’s old and colorless and Usopp always half expected a ghost to howl at him every time he passed.

 

He doesn’t miss school, and he certainly doesn’t miss the house at the end of the hill.

 

Still, he needs a ramp and the hill is the only suitable place in the whole neighborhood. So it’s time to grow up, he says to himself as he draws nearer. There is no way around it, and sometimes, things just have to be done. His mom used to say that. And she was right more often than Usopp likes to admit.

 

“Nothing will happen,” he mutters to himself as he untiesthe rope he used to transport the soapbox. “Usopp, you’re eight years old. Eight year olds don’t believe in ghosts. It’s just an empty house.” He tugs the rope around his belly so it doesn’t get lost on the drive. “Just an empty house.” He repeats the sentence again, just to make sure it sticks, not to calm himself, because he is completely and utterly calm, thank you very much. All his concerns are perfectly reasonable anyway, kids should stay away from creepy places for a reason, crime is a thing.

 

But none of this is relevant now, because it’s just an empty house.

 

Better to focus on why he came here. He examines the car for the last time, affirming everything is tight and where it needs to be. The tires have full air. When he knocks against the wood it gives a satisfying clonk. The lamb he painted at the head of the car looks like it’s smiling at him, telling him everything will be fine.

 

He did it. He really did it.

 

All that’s left to do is to finally _do it_.

 

Carried by a sudden rush of determination, he steps behind the car and starts running. It’s heavier than he expected at first, but he gets used to it quickly, and they pick up speed as they near the hillside. The impact of his soles on the tar of the street echoes around him. They get closer, closer, he has to jump in soon or he will lose the car. Five steps left, four, three…

He grips the edge of the drivers cavity tightly and swings himself inside. His body weight gives them a push forward and they are rolling down the hill, still gaining tempo.

 

The wind is hitting him in the face with strong cold fingers, blowing his hair back and burning in his eyes. His whole body is tense, every fibre is tingling with excitement as they go down, always faster down. His stomach feels like it’s turning inside out. It feels a bit like falling, and a bit like flying at the same time.

 

A shout of glee reaches his ears and he realizes it’s his voice.

 

This is awesome.

 

He wishes it would never stop.

 

But then, before he can fully grasp what is actually happening, the car slows down as the street gets even again and they roll out the momentum.

 

Usopp’s heart is beating wildly in his chest, he can hear the drumbeat echo in his ears. The smile on his face is so big it actually hurts, but he can’t stop, it just feels too good.

 

He has to do it again.

 

His legs wobble as he  clumsily gets out of the driver’s seat, almost falls back in, and checks for any damage without really paying attention. His knees are so weak, he probably looks really funny while he circles around the car. Reflexively he looks around, hoping the street is still empty and no one saw his awkward fidgeting. But it all seems quiet, a mild breeze blows through the trees on the sidewalk. This early in the day, most people are at work and the houses are quiet and empty. Even the little boy looking at him from the driveway of the old creepy house looks peaceful.

 

Usopp stops in his tracks while the information catches on with his brain. There is a boy. He is looking at him. That means he saw him stumbling.

 

His cheeks flare up. He must have looked so stupid. The plans of pushing the car back up for another drive vanish from his mind. Retreat. He has to get out of here. Maybe he can come back tomorrow morning, before everyone is awake. Hastily tying the rope to the soapbox car again, he prepares to make a quick exit.

 

Just as he begins to climb the hill again, he hears a voice behind him. It must be the boy from the house of horror. “Wait!”

 

Usopp walks faster.

 

He forces his steps to be more determined than he actually feels. Embarrassment coils in his gut. Also it dawns on him that if the other kid is playing in the driveway of the scary house that probably means he lives there and he doesn’t want to have anything to do with that. The boy probably isn’t even alive anymore, he is a ghost from a family that once lived there and was brutally murdered or something. And Usopp really values his life. He is not going to be tricked by some demon child. He will just go home, shut the garage door behind him and turn up the TV really loud, so it sounds like he is not alone.

 

But as soon as he feels a bit calmer, he notices quick steps behind him. The dead boy is following him! Aren’t ghosts supposed to be bound to their haunting grounds? Usopp doesn’t know, he has never met one before. He speeds up even more, though it’s hard with the added weight of the car. He feels sweat dampen the back of his shirt. “Wait!” the boy calls again. Oh no, Usopp will not fall for it. He is way to smart for that. He keeps his eye locked on the top of the hill. If he just ignored the other long enough he will go away.

The car stops behind him, the sudden lack of movement making Usopp stumble once more. He doesn’t turn around though. He just has to wait long enough for the ghost to lose interest in him. His breath is shaky and sweat drops form on his forehead even though he is not moving anymore. But he is not afraid, only rational. Who wouldn’t try to escape in his place?

 

“Please don’t go away! I need your help.” Which is exactly what a ghost would say! He can barely hold back a whimper. It vibrates in his throat and shakes his whole body. He is not scared. He is eight years and three quarters and far too old to be afraid of a meager spectre. Straightening his shoulders he resolves to stay strong.

 

That doesn’t help him much, though. A few moments later a face appears in his line of sight. It’s framed by brown hair, topped by a ridiculous looking red hat. Big brown eyes stare at him. The boy seems to be a bit younger than himself, he is certainly smaller. He looks quite real, with reddened cheeks and huffing, but for all Usopp knows, that could be a trick.

 

But when the kid begins to speak again, his voice is shaky and his hands tremble. “Please, he’s hurt, I can’t help him alone. I really wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t necessary!” Is the boy scared of him? He looks like he is about to pass out any second now. Looks like Usopp’s steadfastness scared him. Good. But still, he sees no way to get away. His mind is running fast. Maybe if he plays along he can escape the demon child.

 

“Who is hurt?” he asks

 

“The bird that feel out of the tree. I think his wing is broken, but I can’t examine him properly because he always tries to fly away when I touch him.” The boy looks like he is about to cry. With tears in his eyes he looks up to Usopp. “I can’t find Robin anywhere and Brook is busy cleaning. Please, help me fix him?”

 

The ghost is really good at his job. Usopp almost believes him. Almost. Trying to look like he means it, he responds: “Of course I’ll help you treat the bird. I love birds. Some of my best friends are birds.”

 

He wishes he would have shut up after the first sentence. But instead of exposing his lie, a smile spreads over his face. “Really? Mine too!”

 

What a weirdo. At least Usopp lied to cover up his escape plan. The other kid, however, seems to be entirely serious. “What a coincidence!” His smile is forced and hurts at the edges. But if he doesn’t get the kid to turn around and lead him to the house, he will not clear the path Usopp needs to flee.

 

“Thank you! He is in our garden, so you’d have to come with me, but I’m sure you can leave your car in the driveway. It’s so cool! The lamb is really pretty!” The terrified boy from a few moments ago is gone. Instead, he looks at the soapbox with admiration, face still glowing. Turn around, Usopp thinks. The mention of the house of horrors alone has him shivering again. But he isn’t going to go there. He will be home soon, and safe, and all of this will be over. No more demon children for him.

 

The boy steps back a bit. “C’mon, let’s go!”, he urges, suddenly excited, pulling at Usopp’s suspenders. Usopp has no choice but to follow. He tries to tell him to stop, but the boy doesn’t hear him. His heart starts to beat wildly in his chest. Oh god, he is doomed. This will be his last day in his wonderful world. And it started out so great.

 

He struggles all the way down the hill, until they reach the driveway. “You can leave your car here!” The other boy still smiles brightly. For a moment Usopp considers just telling him off. But what if he gets angry and decides to haunt him? The risk is too high. Instead he nods and unties the knot on his belt. Maybe the boy is an okay ghost. Maybe he will even let him go if he follows the instructions. He glances down at the soapbox car that started all of this. Had he known, he would have stayed at home and spent another boring day watching TV. Then he sighs deeply. His life never seems to get any easier. Maybe God has chosen him for some kind of prank show. Usopp hopes he has lots of fun watching him.

 

He swallows thickly and reminds himself to get through this as nicely and quickly as possible Then he follows the demon boy up the driveway.

 

Up close the house of horrors looks even more creepy. The paint on the fassade is old and flakes off on several spots. The tall trees cast shadow over the whole property, so every corner seems dark and mysterious. Weed grows out of the lawn, raking up high into the air. A fat and probably poisonous spider has spun its net directly over the front porch, as if to greet unlucky visitors.

 

A chill runs down Usopp’s spine. There is no car parked anywhere, which isn’t all that reassuring. “Hey, er, where are we going exactly?” he asks the boy, not quite managing to keep his voice steady.

 

“He’s in the backyard!” The pulling gets more insistent until they round the corner of the house. The driveway gives way to a mid sized patch of lawn, surrounded by willows. A table and some chairs with intricate iron decorations are placed in front of the house’s back door. It looks almost frighteningly normal.

 

The boy lets go of his sleeve and runs over the lawn, just to drop to his knees right in the middle of it. Only now can Usopp make out the little clump of darkness against the fresh green of the grass. He stays where he is, unsure if he should join the other boy or just run away from the scene. But there is no way he’ll be fast enough with the soapbox car in tow and there is no way he’s leaving it behind.

 

So he just waits. And soon enough, the boy turns back to him. “He’s still alive. But we should hurry anyway!” he calls and makes his way over to the terrace. “If we hurry up a bit, he’ll be okay, I think.”

 

The boy looks at Usopp expectantly, as if he is supposed to do something. He has no idea what. After what seems like an eternity, during which Usopp is not sure how to feel or think and what the hell this creepy kid wants from him, the other boy gesticulates back to the house. “Come, we’ll go get the medkit!”

 

There is a coil of fear in Usopp’s stomach, no way he is following this strange boy into an even stranger house.

 

“You know what, I’ll just wait here for you. Wouldn’t want to intrude on your parents.” A drop of sweat makes its way from his head down his neck and back. Hopefully the boy doesn’t notice how nervous and reluctant he is, he doesn’t want to get into trouble. Not today. Or ever, honestly. But today was supposed to be a good day, the first good one after a long series of empty ones, which dragged on forever and left him with the vague suspicion that this was just the way his life would be for the weeks and months and maybe years to come.

 

“Nonsense! We can ask Robin or Brook to make us tea, but if you stay outside how can you tell them which kind you want?”

 

Why is nothing he tries working? Usopp thinks about running again, but it’s not worth it. If he just goes along with what the boy wants maybe he’ll be free to go afterwards. So he swallows the lump in his throat and takes some shaky steps towards him.

 

The weird boy leads him into the house. It’s unnaturally gloomy, and even though there is enough light coming in from the windows, it is swallowed by big dark brown pieces of furniture who stand on dark floorboards, who are sporadically covered by old looking carpets with foreign patterns on it.

 

They must be in a living or sitting room, the rational part of Usopp’s brain supplies, because there is a big sofa surrounded by multiple armchairs. Over the sitting area hangs a painting that depicts a war or something similar, at least Usopp can see a whole lot of rifles and people in uniform, together with an unhealthy amount of blood. Shelves line up on the walls of the room, filled to the brim with all kinds of old looking books.

 

This is a haunted house and he’s right in the middle of it.

 

His heart beats wildly in his chest and his neck and forehead are wet with cold sweat.

 

 _Don’t lose it now_ , he tells himself. Stay calm, _you can do this, just play along and in a bit this will all be over_. As he follows the boy deeper and deeper inside the house, his knees get increasingly wobbly. The hallway that follows the sitting rooms is as dark and scary as the room they just left. There seems to be wood everywhere, and not a bright color in sight. A few pieces of art are scattered across the way, including a statue of what seems to be a person whose lungs and heart are visible from the outside. It nearly has Usopp screaming and he can only rail in a scared screech in the last possible second.

 

The house is quiet, and his own footsteps are unnaturally loud in the silence.

 

Eventually, the hallway gives way into a huge entry hall. It’s bigger than any room Usopp has ever seen. This seems to be the actual living room, since it looks actually lived in. A few books are scattered around the sitting area and there is a piano on the wall, complete with a still open case of sheet music on it. A ball of yarn lies on a low table. The hall leads up to a stairwell, that parts into the left and right wing of the house.

 

Funny, it didn’t look as big from the outside and he decides to just push it aside for a second, when he sees the huge polar bear on the wall above the stairs.

 

Well, Usopp thinks cynically as dread stops him dead in his tracks, or at least it’s the head of a polar bear, hanging almost below the ceiling and looking down on what goes on underneath.

 

He looks up at the bear.

 

The bear stares back.

 

“Ahhhh, Bepo,” a voice suddenly says next to him. “Isn’t he just marvellous?”

 

Usopp screams. It tears through his throat as if he threw it up, powerful and clear. He turns in horror, only to find himself next to a skeleton.

 

He screams again. And again. And again.

 

He screams until he hears a laugh and the sound startles him so much that he actually stops, mouth still hanging open.

 

The boy who brought him here stands on the other side of the room, hands pressed to his stomach and is nearly toppling over with laughter.

 

“You don’t have to be afraid!” The words are pressed in between fits of giggling, so that its hard for Usopp to understand what they mean. “It’s just Brook!” Then he loses himself again, face going red with lack of oxygen.

 

“Yes, yes, how true.” The skeleton laughs, a loud and high sound that makes Usopp’s bone vibrate, and bows down to him a bit. “There is no reason to be scared. I am merely Brook, the long-time Butler of Mr. Law and Ms. Robin.”

Up close, Usopp can see that he is, indeed not dead. Thin brown skin stretches over the man’s cheekbones and he can see the rise and fall of his chest.

 

Still, he doesn’t look particularly healthy either, with the exception of the mob of black hair that curls around his head in a near perfect sphere. His cheeks are sunken and his eyes seem unnaturally wide though, so Usopp can’t blame himself for his initial thought. Everyone within an inch of their sanity would have reacted exactly the same way.

 

“Nice...to meet...you?” he lies through his teeth. Nothing about the last half hour has been nice in the least. And he just wanted to take a ride. Leave it to his fate to make something so horrible out of something fun.

 

“Likewise. It’s quite a rare occasion that Mister Chopper brings friends home. Is there anything I can do to make you feel comfortable?”

 

 _Let me leave,_ Usopp thinks, _and forget everything I saw here today, including you._ Instead he replies: “No, thank you. I’m fine.” Like his mother taught him not too long ago, when she was still healthy.

 

“Well, let me know if that changes.” He bows, which looks absurd, because he is tall and even hunched over there is a lot of space between them both. Then he repeats the gesture in the general direction of the boy, who is not laughing anymore but watching them intently, and vanishes through a door Usopp hadn’t noticed.

 

“Let’s go!” the boy, Chopper apparently ( _and what kind of name is that?_ ) says and opens up another door that was barely visible from where Usopp stands.

 

Feeling both still scared and a bit more relieved at the same time, Usopp follows. The door opens into another stairwell, this time leading down. Oh no. This Chopper wants to lead him into the basement? How stupid would Usopp be to follow someone who is called Chopper of all things into a dark cellar? He shakes his head.

 

“I’m sorry, I can’t go.”

 

“What?” the other boy, already halfway down the stairs turns around. “Why?”

 

“I have a terribly allergy to cellars. It has…” Usopp frantically searches his brain for words. “...something to do with the cobwebs and… dust! Yes, dust. One breath, and I’ll begin to cough terribly and be sick. And I’d rather not be.” He’s rambling, he knows he is, but hopefully Chopper won’t notice.

 

For a second the other kid eyes him in suspicion.

 

“Okay, I’ll be right back!”  And then he skips down the rest of the steps. Somewhere down below, a light flickers on and through the door Chopper left half open, Usopp can see a PVC covered floor and the beginnings of a tiled wall. What the hell is down there?

 

On second thought, he prefers not to think about this longer than absolutely necessary. So he just looks back into the entry hall, noticing the weird names of the books lying around. They sound weirdly technical and Usopp has trouble reading some of it. A few he already knows, for example he’s learned pretty early that everything that says “cardio-” has something to do with hearts. Why would someone read books like this?

 

If Usopp had any books, he would probably read more. He knows that he sometimes borrowed some from the library in school, stories about warriors and pirates and far away places. But something about science? Or hearts? That doesn’t sound fun at all, it sounds like hospitals and death. And these things are at the far end of Usopp’s list of things he wants to remember.

 

Finally, he hears steps coming up the stairs. Chopper is back, in his hand a big leather bag. It looks heavy, and he leans slightly to the other side to make up for the added weight.

 

“Please help me?” he asks with eyes so big and wide Usopp can’t say no, even though Chopper practically kidnapped him off the street, forced him into his house and exposed him to all kinds of horrors.

 

So he takes the other handle and together they make their way back, passing Bepo, the polar bear, the lung statue and the silent sitting room again.

 

At the second glance, they are still dark and gloomy, but Usopp feels that his heartbeat calms down a bit and his ears got used to the muffled silence in the house. But the tension fades only all the way when they step outside and Usopp can feel the sun on his skin again.

 

Chopper immediately pulls him into the direction if the bird. He practically runs over to it, as fast as he can while holding the bag and Usopp can follow.

 

The boys drop down next to the injured animal. It’s a sparrow, sitting in the grass, head moving rapidly as they are looking down on him. Usopp can see it get up, but he fails and falls down on its tiny fallons again. Its probably scared of them. Usopp wishes he could tell it that it’s okay, he is scared too, he didn’t sign up for this either and he won’t hurt it.

 

Observing it, he can see that the bird keeps trying to spread one of its wings, but never quite manages. There is a dark spot on the feathers, something that looks suspiciously like blood, maybe some dirt too.

 

Chopper opens the doctor’s bag. In it is a variety of smaller bags and tin cans, and Usopp can also make out a few pill bottles and med cases.

“I want to disinfect and bandage the wound”, Chopper tells him while roaming through the different sorts of supplies. “I don’t know if you can give human disinfectant to birds, but I think it’s worth a try. It will get infected and hurt otherwise.

 

Usopp has to bite his tongue to hold back a comment. This boy can’t possibly know what he’s doing. What if he makes everything worse than it is? What if he makes Usopp complicit in murder on an innocent bird? But he won’t say anything. He can’t. His plan is to just play along and get out when they are finished.

 

“I need you to hold him as tight as you can without hurting him, so I can work on his wing. I want to give him painkillers, but…” Chopper trails off, acting as if Usopp has any idea what he’s talking about. So he just nods and moves from behind the back to have better access to the bird.

 

He scoops it up into his hands. _This is a bad idea_ , he thinks. _Why am I doing this, how did this happen?_ His hands are trembling a bit and he can feel the sparrow trembling between his fingers, too. It hurts a bit, to know that he’s causing it fear.

 

 _Stick to the plan_ , he tells himself.

 

So he presses his hands together until he is afraid to break the bird and waits. Looking up at Chopper, he sees that in the meantime, the boy has gotten bandages and scissors out of the bag. He carefully cuts them into small pieces and lays them out.

 

In Usopp’s hands, the sparrow tries to free itself. He feels bad for keeping it trapped, it almost makes him sick. He just hopes the other boy is quick about his plan.

 

It feels like an eternity. He watches Chopper take out a cotton ball, and spray it with a solution that must be the disinfectant he talked about.

 

“Okay,” the other boy looks at him. “This is going to be a bit difficult, but I’ll hurry.” He motions for Usopp to move his hands a bit so he can touch the bird and gets to work.

 

The sparrow is scared out of its mind. It trembles and flaps its wings against Usopp’s skin, letting out a high pitched chirp while Chopper removes the dirt from its wound. Usopp can see how much the other boy tries to be gentle, carefully dapping it and occasionally wiping just a tiny bit more insistently. It looks like he has done this before, his movements seem practiced and confident.

 

Usopp wonders if that’s something the strange boy does, picking up animals and trying to fix them up. His fingers are quick and nimble, and it only takes a few minutes until Chopper reaches for the bad aids he prepared to fix the gauze and bandages.

 

It’s harder than it looks with the sparrow still trying to free itself, but in the end, it sticks to the feathers closely.

 

“You can let go now,” Chopper says.

 

Carefully, Usopp opens his hands again. As soon as it realizes it’s free, the bird tries to fly away, only to tumble to the ground because its wing is still hurt. But it skips away as fast as it can nonetheless, bringing as much distance between it and the boys as possible. Usopp still feels the guilt coil heavily in his gut, even if the sparrow does look better and Chopper seemed to have really helped him.

 

“The band aide will fall off soon enough,” Chopper sys next to him. “I hope it’s enough time for the wound to grow scab over so it doesn’t get infected.” Usopp looks over to him, the other boy looks thoughtful and maybe a bit sad. “I hope he’ll be happy.” He looks so sad that Usopp feels bad for him for moment. Obviously, the uncertainty is making him sorry.

 

So Usopp says the first thing that comes to his mind. “He will be. I’m sure it skips home to its bird family and tells them about its adventures and proudly shows them the bandage you made.”

 

Chopper looks up to him with eyes as big as saucers. “Do you really think so?”

 

“Yes, of course!” Usopp insists. The story flows easily from his lips.  “He’ll hop to the tree they build their nest in, and the other sparrows will come down to say hello. And he’ll tell them about the two humans whom he was scared of at first and who patched it up.” He holds out his arm like its a wing, gesticulating over it while he finishes. “And then the birds will all sign the band aids and he will look really cool. He’ll be the King of the birds then, because he’s so brave!”

 

“Really? The King?”

 

Usopp nods. “Of course. I mean look what an adventure he’s just had, with you and me and whatever hurt him in the first place!”

 

The way Chopper looks at him, he can barely remember why he was so scared of him in the beginning. Now he’s just another boy, like Usopp would meet in school or maybe on the playground.

 

He still wants to leave this creepy house. And who knows if Chopper will stay in this mood. Even though he and the Butler have been nice, the family has a stuffed polar bears on their wall. They are obviously very strange.

 

He takes a deep breath. It’s now or never. It’s simple, really. He’ll just remark how late it has gotten and that his mom waits for him (even though thinking about her stings a little, because she is not, all that waits for him is the soapbox and the TV), and then he’ll just go. Leave this behind him and forget it ever happened.

 

He is just about to open his mouth when he catches a movement out of the corner of his eyes. As he turns he sees a tall man standing in the doorway. He can see it’s not Brook from the different hairstyle, instead this man is slim but wiry, with a sour expression on his face. Even though it’s summer, he wears a long coat and a hat. It should look ridiculous, but instead it makes him seem even more angry and intimidating.

 

He should have gotten out while he could.

 

The fear is back and it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. He can’t move as the man comes closer in large steps.

 

“Chopper,” he says while approaching. His voice holds a cold annoyance that makes Usopp shiver.

 

The boy, who was busy putting the medical supplies back in the doctor’s bag, turns around. “Mr. Law!” he calls and stands up. “I didn’t think you’d be back this early!”

 

The man, Law apparently, doesn’t answer, instead looks down on the bag.

 

“You took it again without asking me,” he states, the anger in his voice deepening. “I have a patient in the basement who waits for me and the syringes are missing. I can’t work like this.”

 

Chopper looks down on his feet, guilt ridden. He obviously know he has done something wrong though how he manages to stay calm and not break out into tears while Law looks at him like that, Usopp doesn’t know. Hell, he’s close to crying. Scratch that. Of course he’s not. He’s brave and smart, and crying is for little kids.

 

“I’m sorry,” Chopper says eventually. “I didn’t want to cause any problems. It’s just- just-” He looks up and there it is, the glimmer of fear that Usopp feels mirrored in his eyes. “The bird, he was- he hurt himself and he couldn’t fly and I wanted to help him and I needed some band aids and I thought you would be gone for longer an-” He barely pauses between words, speaking as if he’s expecting to be interrupted any second. But Law just towers over him, listening and looking almost thoughtful.  When Chopper finishes, his face seems to soften a bit, though Usopp wouldn’t swear on if. He still looks frightening.

“I should have known you wouldn’t take my bag without having a good reason,” Law answers eventually. His voice is calmer now. It’s probably unwise to relax just yet, Usopp tells himself. Everything has been so crazy up to this point, who knows what will happen next.

 

“I really didn’t want to make you angry. I’m sorry.” Chopper looks so sad and scared. What happened to the excited boy he met earlier? Usopp can’t find an answer. He wants to say something, wants to say that the bird was much better when it left, that it was good that Chopper helped, but his mouth won’t obey. He can feel the words dying in his throat as he looks back at Law.

 

“It’s okay. I should not have doubted you.” The corners of Law’s mouth twitch. Usopp is not sure, but it almost look like a small smile. It’s barely noticeable, but Chopper’s shoulders relax upon seeing it, and he seems to let out a breath that he’s been holding.

 

“You really don’t have to call me ‘Mister’. Law is enough.” Guilt flashes over Chopper’s face again, but Law lifts his hand as if to stop him. “You don’t have to, but you can.”

 

He looks down on the leftover bandages and the medbag, in which the supplies seem to be a bit more messy than when they first opened it.

 

“I’m going to have to take this to my patient now,” he announces. “But later you have to tell me exactly what happened and how you treated the bird.” It sounds like an order, but Chopper lights up at the words. His smile wipes away the fear and worry. Usopp feels something like relief when he sees it. Not real relief, not when they barely know each other. He can’t sympathize with someone who literally snatched him off the street, but he can feel a bit more at ease now that he knows this Law guy won’t do something mean to him.

 

Law takes the bag and shoulders it, then begins to walk away. Finally. Just a few more seconds and he can leave. Usopp just wants to be home again. Even if he doesn’t particularly like it there, at least he has some quiet and is far away from all of this creepy stuff. And the scary people. Just because he thinks they won’t kill him right away doesn’t mean he’s making any plan to stay and find out if he’s right.

 

But shortly before Law is off the lawn, he turns around again, making Usopp’s heart stop with the determination in his eyes. He was wrong. He was wrong. They’re going to take him to the cellar and keep him there. Or worse. Test the syringes on him.  

 

“Maybe it’s time you got your own doctor’s bag,” Law says. “We should talk about if after dinner. Make a list of what you think you’ll need for the animals.” Chopper makes a choked sound at that that sounds suspiciously like a squeal.

 

“Really?” he asks, hopeful as if Law just promised him the world.

 

Law nods. The almost-smile is back again. He’ll never see the light of day again. His heart starts to beat fast, his throat is dry as sandpaper. He doesn’t want to die, he’s not ready, there’s still the race, and his favorite TV-Show and so much stuff he wants to build -

 

“I’m thinking maybe some scalpels too, so you can catch up on your anatomy knowledge.”

 

Usopp flees.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, come visit me at my tumblr @zorotrash or at my twitter @fatfairy17


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